


Hard Missions

by pizzallate



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Gen, hella cute for you all ok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-01
Updated: 2014-10-01
Packaged: 2018-02-19 12:57:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2389058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pizzallate/pseuds/pizzallate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes you just need to sleep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hard Missions

He’s tired. Tire, tired,  _tired_. Eight fucking hours. That’s how long their mission had lasted. Eight hours non-stop trying to be sneaky because he needed to get that damn pen drive with the information the Director wanted. And you know how hard it is being sneaky with a goddamn giant with you? That can get clumsier than a deer learning to walk sometimes? Nope, you don’t.

And that, after a night with York -he’s never, ever, listening to his ideas that drinking the night before a mission could be a good way to relax ever again- well, all he wanted to do was to lie anywhere and sleep. Maybe for three whole days. Or years.

He’s glad to finally step in the pelican, too dead to think of any reply to 9er’s complain about why the fuck did they take so long, only sitting in place -Maine sitting by his side like always-, head rolling back until it hit metal, and then there’s a second of silence, and next he knows, his eyes are closing, and he might or not have leaned on the big marine’s shoulder, and then he’s asleep.

He remembers waking up once later. But it was for a short time, and only to tell Maine to leave him alone because he’s sleeping, because he  _needs_ to sleep. And then he feels himself shift from the sitting position, but doesn’t mind it, because he’s not awake enough and he wasn’t totally uncomfortable the way he was. Kind of the opposite, actually.

And then one more time not much long after the last. His half asleep mind notices that he isn’t wearing his helmet, and what he’s looking at is a white chest plate. Hard, cold, but he finds himself leaning on it all the same, and before slipping into unconsciousness, he hears a low noise that might have been a purr or an annoyed growl, he’s not sure. You know, tired and all. 

Last time is because there’s something poking his face, and it’s starting to get annoying. And there’s shuffling, and noises, shushes of someone telling the other to be quiet- hang on. 

Wash’s eyes open again, and it’s the same thing from before. White chest plate, he’s not wearing his helmet, he’s more comfortable than he should be if were on the pelican like he had remembered-  _hang ooooooooon_.

He jerks awake, and first thing he hears is North’s voice- he’s using that annoyed big brother voice, telling whoever that was that they should’ve let him be. And then a giggle -Wyoming-, and York’s voice, sounding amused, “ _But he just looked so adorable! How could I resist this chance to take pictures and bother him?_ ”

Wait what.

He looks up, and sees Maine -he’s not wearing his helmet, too-, and something about this isn’t right. He’s not sure what, though. Thus the reason of the frown on his face, the situation still too much for his brain to process. The marine is looking at him, eyebrow arched, and he looks just as amused as York sounded, if not more.

C.T is there, too, and her hand goes to his forehead, and when he looks at her, she’s grinning, “How’re feeling?”

“Uhh-fine, um, what’s happening?”

“Oh, nothing, don’t worry about it.”

“You look quite comfortable there, pal.”

“Yeah- I’m-“

“Do you think he noticed yet?”

“Don’t think he’s awake enough.” Chuckling, though the way York’s voice pitched, it sounded more like a giggle.

“Noticed what?” Seriously, Wash is started to get annoyed.

“Nothing.”, this time it’s Maine, and then his mind finally clicks. 

Ooooooooooh.

… Did he really have to carry him bridal style? God. 

"You’re all a bunch of assholes." Wash crosses his arms, but doesn’t try to stand up. He’s comfortable. Fuck everyone. "Maine, get me to my room." there’s a snort at this, but he doesn’t care. Closed eyes, nose tilted up, he’s  _royalty_  right now. “You’re all just jealous.”

It’s quiet for a second, then laughter fills the room, but he’s not there for long because he wasn’t kidding, and Maine knew, and he’s being taken to his room for a good night of sleep this time. 


End file.
